AN: For the "Monthly Drabble a Thon" challenge. It was supposed to be between 50 and 750 words, but I got carried away, I was having tons of fun…
Prompt: Gilderoy Lockhart
Word count:1,079

Lockhart in Love

Gilderoy Lockhart could not sleep. Could the Chamber of Secrets really have been opened? The idea made him restless. He needed to calm down, and there was only one way to do that: visiting his portraits.

Of course his sleeping chamber had its walls covered in magnificent pictures of himself: Gilderoy Lockhart and his published works, Gilderoy Lockhart in a splendid fur cloak, Gilderoy Lockhart's flawless profile, Gilderoy Lockhart in bejeweled robes that sparkled nearly as much as his hair and teeth – the list went on and on.

But the truly heroic paintings, the ones he turned to in times of terr– in times when his great courage could use a little boost, were all hung in his office.

So, Gilderoy sneaked out. However, he had barely stepped out of the chamber when something made him jump.

"Professor Lockhart," drawled a cold voice from behind him.

He turned around, startled, hoping the owner of the voice hadn't noticed his tiny leap.

"Professor Snape. How odd to see you out here at such a late hour!" said the blond wizard, trying to sound casual. "Had you told me about your insomnia, I could have brewed just the poti–"

"Odd to see you up so late, Professor Lockhart," said Snape through gritted teeth. "I wonder what's delaying your beauty sleep," he spat.

"Professor Snape, it is very kind of you to worry about my well-being. I can assure you that my good looks are strong enough to resist a few sleepless nights. What kept me up was fear – I mean, fear for the students, of course, with such a monster lurking around. I thought I'd do a bit of patrolling, in case the beast shows itself."

Professor Snape lifted his chin and his right eyebrow gave a twitch, as if he had been about to raise it, but his expression quickly changed into a very subtle smirk.

"I hope you do encounter that beast tonight, Professor Lockhart, so that by the next morning Hogwarts will be free of a terrible nightmare," he said.

Completely oblivious, Gilderoy inflated his chest and thanked Professor Snape.

Our hero then headed towards his office. Hogwarts was a very dark place at night, he thought to himself, dark and creepy. That is, other people, people who hadn't defeated all sorts of extremely dangerous creatures, might find it creepy.

And when he reached that point in his reflections, his mind searched for a distraction. He replayed in his head the scene that had just happened: ah, what an ingenious excuse he had made! But now it dawned on him that Professor Snape might not have meant – never mind that old bat.

At last, Gilderoy reached his destination.

He entered his office and quickly shut the door behind him. With a flick of his wand, all the candles in the room were set alight, revealing his many portraits of himself. They all looked like they had prepared for the occasion: every painted golden lock fell in a perfect, hypnotizing spiral, and the painted smiles all glistened, whiter than ever.

The real Gilderoy gave a sigh of relief upon seeing himself fighting a troll, brandishing a sword, standing in front of a dead werewolf… Certainly whatever had been lurking around the castle was no match for such a powerful wizard.

It was only when all the men on the walls nodded in agreement that Gilderoy realized he had been thinking out loud.

"There is no beast the great Gilderoy Lockhart can't defeat!" said one of the portraits.

It was his very favourite painting, and the largest in the room. It had been inspired by a Muggle a picture he had once seen: a man on a glorious white horse, with his hand pointing upwards and a scarlet cloak flying behind him. Gilderoy's, however, showed the blond mounting a unicorn – yes, for even unicorns showed him obedience – with his wand in his hand and a periwinkle cloak billowing in the wind.

" The monster from the Chamber would certainly be blinded by our beauty," said another Gilderoy.

"Or it would kill itself, envying our dazzling blue eyes!" suggested the Gilderoy with the werewolf.

"Don't be foolish, you two," said the one with the troll, "we would immobilise the creature before it could even take a proper look at our faces!"

"Now, now, my wonderful men, don't fight," advised the real Gilderoy, unable to suppress his award-winning smile, as he imagined a daring battle between him and the monster.

"Oh, look at his teeth!" said a portrait, in a trance.

"Our teeth," said another, very proud.

"And the lips around them, sweet Merlin..." added a signed photograph on the desk.

At that, the three-dimensional Gilderoy blushed a little. "Oh, you flatter me."

"But he's right," chimed in a picture on the corner, "if only I could kiss flawless lips like those..."

"Well, you can," said the painting next to the last one, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

The other Gilderoys sniggered at the idea, and the next thing they knew, a Gilderoy had moved into another's frame, and the two were snogging fiercely.

Soon enough, the rest of the men on the walls decided they were geniuses for thinking of that, and followed suit.

The real Gilderoy stared open-mouthed at the scene before him, still a tiny bit disturbed, but mostly overwhelmed with attraction to himself. It wasn't long before he took a photo from his desk and rubbed his lips and tongue on it passionately, covering it in the perfect saliva of a perfect man.

But then, his bliss was interrupted. "Professor Lockhart, what in Merlin's name are you doing?"

The sun was already up, and Professor McGonagall, who had had her knocking ignored, now stood by the door, looking positively outraged.

Gilderoy froze in shock, but quickly snapped out of it and threw the photograph aside (it gave an indignant "humph!").

"I – Er – You see, Professor, I was checking my pictures for curses! Some complicated curses can only be detected by use of all the five senses; it's nothing a skilled wizard like myself cannot vanquish, naturally," he explained hurriedly.

"I see," replied McGonagall, very suspicious. "Well, I'll see you at breakfast, Professor."

At last, she left.

Gilderoy looked disapprovingly at his portraits, who smiled innocently back. That was enough to convince him – after all, he had won Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award for a reason – and from then on, Gilderoy Lockhart spent many nights in his office.

AN: Don't forget to review!